Manny pinches his brow, struggling to deal with this information. ‘Where are we? Where’s Earth? Where’s this Xibalba?’

Jacob closes his eyes. The astrotopography reverts to the original volumetric image. ‘Computer, magnify the Orion spur ten to the power of nine.’

A section of one of the Milky Way’s long outer arms leaps outward, the magnified projection again swimming around them. Below and to Jacob’s right appears a yellow speck. As Manny watches, the area magnifies, revealing Earth’s sun and its planets.

Jacob points high above their heads to three bright pinpoints set in a familiar alignment, the pattern identical to the formation of the three pyramids of Giza.

‘Al Nitak, Al Nilam, and Mintaka, the three belt stars of the constellation Orion. Look just below the stars. Can you see that tiny crimson-and-silver world? According to the Guardian, that planet is Xibalba. Now watch.’

Jacob points to their right. Moving slowly through the three-dimensional cosmos is a paper-thin looping slash of scarlet laser light, running north–south through the Orion arm. ‘Here comes our wormhole. Its proximal orifice will pass between Earth and Mars in seven days, its distal mouth whipping around in time to deposit us in the vicinity of Xibalba. The last time a wormhole intercepted our solar system in this manner was on 4 Ahau, 3 Kankin, the winter solstice of 2012—the last day of the Mayan calendar. The time before that was almost 65 million years ago.’

‘Wait … this thing will arrive in seven days?’

‘No, I said the wormhole’s closest mouth will pass near Mars in seven days. To rendezvous in time means we’ll have to leave Earth in ninety-eight hours.’

Immanuel swallows back the bile rising from his throat. ‘No way … no fubitshitting goddam way, Jacob Gabriel!’

‘Manny—’

‘No!’ The dark-haired twin bolts out of the control room, then races down the passageway, searching for the camouflaged exit. ‘Open up, goddam it! Jacob, let me out! I can’t breathe!’

A panel retracts, revealing the gantry and the inside of the warehouse. He looks down to see the lift rising slowly to meet him.

Desperate to escape, he leaps forward and grabs hold of one of the aluminum tower’s horizontal support beams, using it like a fireman’s pole to descend quickly to the concrete floor—

—the armed guards already in position as he reaches the bottom.

Meteorology Lab, University of Miami
Tuesday Evening